


Idyllic Blue

by rainstormcolors



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 22:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10500399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainstormcolors/pseuds/rainstormcolors
Summary: Very indulgent DSoD-based prideshipping shorts. Messy writings.





	1. Garden

The two stand separated by four meters, the steam of their battle vanishing. It’s over. He’s lost. Again.  
Atem (softly smiling): “You played well, Kaiba.”  
The palace walls shimmer with a baptismal light. Atem, crested in gold and purple, steps closer to Seto, who says nothing, who doesn’t move.  
Atem: “Kaiba?”  
It’s him. It’s truly him. His intensity in the game. And now the depth of his eyes, the small smile there could make Seto's heart stop. Something inside begins to crumble. Suddenly Seto clasps his hands onto Atem's shoulders, looks him in the eyes with a frustrated and exhausted face. Atem stares back at him blankly. Gently, Seto drops his head onto Atem’s shoulder, rests it there on solid warm flesh. It’s not an illusion. It’s not a ghost. He then feels Atem’s hand settle in his hair.

.

At some point the denial that he cared had transformed into the denial that that man was out of reach.  
There were reflections inside his head that wouldn’t wash away. All his childhood dreams were coming true. So why did he feel so hollow?  
“Atem is gone,” Yugi had said.  
 _No, Yugi. I’ve found him._

.

Atem: “And this is my private garden. It’s a quiet peaceful place to think. I probably spend too much time here.”  
Atem leads Seto into the space, Seto in all black now and blue-edged, having shed his headpiece, coat, and silver gauntlets. Stone glows, luminous as pearl; emerald greens bearing peach and ivory petals; lilypads on water as clear and pure as air. There’s no ceiling above them, only endless blue atmosphere. Another corner of a paradise world sculpted for a king. This king.  
Seto (numbly): “Rather spoiled, aren’t we?”  
Atem: “Aren’t you one to talk.”  
He chuffs slightly.  
Atem: “But you’ve worked hard. I’m impressed by how fast you can crank out new technology.”  
A small frog leaps into the water. There’s a glassiness in Seto’s eyes.  
Atem (subdued): “By the way, thank you for protecting Partner in that duel. We couldn’t have prevailed without you.”  
Seto: “Whatever.”  
Atem pauses, watches Seto closely, who in turn seems to watch nothing.  
Atem: “You’re more docile than I expected.”  
Seto: “…… You died.”  
The dam breaks.  
Seto (squeezing his hands into fists, muttering at first): “You’re a goddamn hypocrite. You blathered on about unity and other sentimental garbage, but you’ll ignore all that once it’s inconvenient for you.” (he thrusts his hand in an angry gesture) “You chose to die like a coward. It’s despicable!”  
Atem: “Kaiba.”  
Seto (looking away): “…”  
Atem: “… You… have a right to be angry. It was a difficult choice. I didn’t belong in that world. With or without a body, it was as if I was incomplete. I can’t explain it well. But watching you, for the first time a part of me regretted dying. The others were slowly moving on, but you…”  
He doesn’t know how to phrase it. There’s a slight contortion in Seto’s face.  
Atem: “You’ve watched me die twice, haven’t you?”  
Seto doesn’t move, everything as heavy as a moon. Atem's eyes are thoughtful, lit like red wine in a blue-tinted bottle.  
Atem: “And you almost died trying to reach me before. I saw you with the hologram. … I’m sorry I wounded you so badly.”  
Seto clenches his teeth behind closed lips, turns back to face him. Atem stares at him with an expression as soft as starlight. There’s a moment of hesitation before Seto’s hand lifts, touches Atem’s cheek. Atem doesn’t retract. He waits for it. They kiss briefly, pull apart. There’s a heavy silence, and then they collide their mouths deeply and embrace. A tropical heat begins to bloom. Hands on Atem’s neck and back. Spit slipping out and crawling down his cheek. Seto breaks away to breathe, then clasps their mouths together again. He pushes their bodies against a wall and begins pulling and sort-of grinding his body into Atem's. When it occurs to Atem that Seto's aroused, he shatters the kiss.  
Atem (breathless): “Kaiba…”  
Seto gives him a moment before meeting his lips again, and Atem lets him return. They press into each other, desperate for the touch, the sweet burn of friction. The senses become a wilderness, and Seto breaks away panting, flips Atem to the wall and bends him. But then Seto stops. Atem, flushed and bewitched, peers back at him.  
Atem (with a soft smile): “It’s alright. You can have me. Kaiba.”  
There’s a small rustling as Seto undoes his belt. He pushes away the cloth from Atem’s body. Atem holds his breath. When Atem finally receives him, the pain and sweetness is too much to bear. Seto pauses, and Atem’s eyes return to Seto’s face.  
Atem: “... I'm fine. Don't stop.”  
And so Seto moves.

.

The bed’s canopy glows pale blue. His room is cast in underwater colors. Curled in the sheets beside him, Seto sleeps. Atem admires his sleeping face, the slightly parted lips. More than once during when Atem had made a sound that could be interpreted as one of pain, Seto stopped, afraid he was hurting him. And it did hurt; they didn't know what they were doing. But Atem didn't want--wouldn't let him stop. And physical pain fades quickly in this landscape anyway.  
Atem’s fingertips brush through Seto’s hair.  
Atem: “Kaiba.”  
Seto’s eyes open slowly and they find Atem.  
Atem: “You have to go back. Mokuba’s waiting for you. He hasn’t left the lab since you arrived here.”  
His voice is feather-soft. Seto palms his face, sits upright, moves from the bed like a lumbering animal. He begins to gather his clothing.  
Atem: “You don’t need to dress. It’s not your mortal body.”  
Seto: “Atem.”  
The tone is one he hasn’t heard from Seto before. It pierces him. But then Seto’s voice reverts to something more comforting.  
Seto: “I expect a rematch.”  
Atem (smirking, head propped in his hand): “You just don’t give up.”  
Seto: “One without a will to live can’t win for much longer.”  
Seto tips back onto the bed and pushes his fingers through Atem's strange colorful hair. It’s a clumsy and innocent gesture, one that surprises Atem.  
Seto: “It's softer than I expected.”  
Atem: “...”  
Seto’s hand drops. They hold the moment.  
Seto: “Goodbye, Atem.”  
Atem: “You’ve been a good friend to me. Goodbye, Kaiba.”  
Seto melts into the air, an afterimage of black glitter. And Atem is alone.  
The truth is, even with the cube, neither one could know the limits of a soul traversing between life and death, how many times they’d have before the spirit tears. Neither one could know if he’d ever come back.


	2. Park Bench

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This sequel kind of ruins the previous chapter's ending...

_I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry_  
It was a sticky kaleidoscopic heat washing his core as he heaved into the bushes, until the contents of his body were empty, even his mind, even his heart. The blood inside his veins became foam, his heartbeat humming soft static as the boy collapsed onto the park bench.  
He’d run six kilometers to this green place, under street lights and a cobalt sky. Something held him back from running any further.  
He had to get out of that horrible horrible house. There was no oxygen there. Just what malformed thing was it twisting him into? He’d begun to think about the knives in the kitchen, taking one, the things he could do with it. Instead he ran. And it was as if hornets swarmed inside his head.  
_What about Mokuba? Gozaburo will send his men after me, won’t he? Have they figured out I’m gone yet? What about Mokuba? Just where am I supposed to go? But if I go back now… But what about Mokuba?_  
_I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry_  
But now he was empty. He felt nothing. Lying on the bench, he stared into the sky and felt absolutely nothing.

.

The man’s hair was colorful and spined like the plumage of a fantasy bird and a deep purple cape fell from his shoulders. A halo glow radiated from his skin. He watched the boy asleep on the bench.  
In three and a half years’ time, he’d duel the boy and sentence him to the Experience of Death. In four years’ time, the boy would try to kill him and he’d crush the boy’s mind and shatter his heart. In four and a half years’ time, he’d sense it the moment the boy woke from his coma. In five years’ time, the boy would give him a card and their souls would cross as that card was played. In six years’ time, Atem would watch the boy watch as a machine assembled the pieces of the Millennium Puzzle. It would be a gesture that was passionate, desperate, and utterly useless.

.

Dawn broke, smeared colors in the corners of the sky. Seto opened his eyes. That’s right. He was at the park. He began to prop himself up and then was surprised to feel some kind of fabric slide from his chest. He took it in his hands and its softness was otherworldly. Someone had laid the deep purple cloth across his body like a blanket.  
The sky turned from blue to lighter blue.  
_But what about Mokuba?_  
It was time to go back now.

…

The boy was a man now. The ethereal dust rising from his body meant he didn’t belong to this place yet. The first time he arrived, they dueled immediately, though the façade of that being the only purpose broke shortly after. The second time he arrived, they also dueled immediately, because they didn’t know how else to reach each other.  
Now Seto Kaiba was sitting in the library, surrounded by stone wall and scrolls, a holographic screen projected from his duel disk and Seto sorting numbers and letters around the screen with the moment of his eyes. Light shining in from the blue outside gave the room a sugary glow.  
Atem entered.  
Atem: “Dinner’s been called.”  
Seto ignored him. Atem peeked over Seto’s shoulder and into the screen. It was some kind of data spread for Seto’s corporation.  
Atem: “You really traveled to the Field of Reeds to do busy work?”  
Seto: “I’ll be done in a moment, your highness.”  
Atem watched the numbers add and subtract as if by magic. He thought of the movies Yugi and the others would watch on the occasional weekend, and what romance meant in those movies (the romance being the B- or C-plot, never the A-plot). There wasn’t any kind of jealousy in his thoughts; he simply compared. And then he felt silly for doing so.  
Atem: “Alright, that’s enough!”  
Atem took the tail of his cape and wrapped it around Seto’s head.  
Seto: “What are-?!”  
Seto grabbed the purple cloth and began to pull it away, but he paused as he felt the gentle fabric run through his fingers. He stared into its color.  
Atem: “… What?”  
Seto held on for a moment longer, and then let Atem’s cape fall to the floor.  
Seto: “… It’s nothing.”  
Seto closed the hologram, stood, and then he and Atem exited the room together, headed in the direction of the banquet hall with a bit of space between them.  
In that voiceless air, their footsteps were too loud.  
Atem: “If, if it’s going to become a habit for you to visit here, perhaps I should introduce you around.”  
Seto: “You mean to those people who were watching before?”  
(He meant in reference to the earlier duels.)  
Atem: “No. Well, some of them. My guards still seem somewhat suspicious of you. But I have friends and family here. The whole palace has been talking about you regardless.”  
Seto grumbled something Atem couldn’t quite make out, though he could tell the grumble was aimless. And for this small gesture Atem smiled, because it was comforting to know that Seto was so far beyond his comfort zone in all this too.  
Atem: “Maybe I’m being too eager.”  
Seto: “Yes.”

.

He hid it well, but his heart tromped. Atem slipped off his cape and draped it over a chair as he moved across the space of his bedroom. He pulled off each earring and turned to face Seto in the lunar spark of light. But Seto wasn’t facing him. Seto stared out the window. The stars: luminous diamond dust scattered across the infinite blue darkness. What did it mean for the afterlife to have stars?  
It had been when Seto began to excavate the Millennium Puzzle that Atem chose to visit him as a child. He needed to see, needed to understand that it wasn’t only his fault that Seto was suffering.  
He was here now, and Seto was here now. As Seto looked out the window, Atem couldn’t help but to go to him and hug him as tightly as he could from behind.


	3. Greenhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seto tests a beta of the Atem AI in a duel.

The jeweled colors of a greenhouse surround them; the sparkling greens of chlorophyll, dewy softness of orchid petals, the spidery branches of jungle trees, ponds filled with fish like living gems. A shining blue abyss lies beyond the expanse of glass.  
The program hasn’t been perfected yet, the translation of ones and zeros here nothing but a check-up, but physically its body is a perfect replica. The texture and hue of its skin, the diamond-cut shape of its eyes: it looks human. It looks alive. He has to duel it to understand just how far from perfect they still are. And the program’s voice as it finally speaks, it’s a perfect match to _that man’s_.  
“Kaiba!” it barks.  
“Kaiba!”  
The gestures are so close to the real thing.  
A creature bursts from a shimmering bloom and is immediately eviscerated by a trap card.  
“What is the purpose of this, Kaiba?” The program isn’t asking about the trap card. Seto ignores the question.  
“Kaiba, this is meaningless and you know it.” _The code hasn’t been perfected yet_ , Seto tells himself. _Useless babbling_. But the program’s eyes stare back at him with such warm intensity.  
“You won’t be happy if you win this. You won’t be happy if I win this either.”  
“Shut. Up.”  
The duel thunders on and oscillates until it reaches its crescendo. Seto wins. _As expected_ , he thinks. The steam of battle fades. He unharnesses the duel disk from his forearm, secures it inside the wing of his coat.  
The program approaches its creator, speaks in its haunted voice. “So what now?”  
“The code needs fine-tuning. My own bias is disrupting your behavior,” he answers dully.  
“Is it?”  
Seto sneers. “Hmph. Look at you. Should you really be so bold after such a crushing defeat?”  
“Did this duel mean something to you then?”  
“What are you yammering about?” Seto spits.  
“Should you be so bitter and empty after such a sweeping victory?”  
“It’s only a stepping stone,” Seto says.  
“To what exactly? Kaiba, this is pointless, isn’t it?”  
“Shut up.”  
“You’re making it harder for yourself. You need to—“  
“I said shut up!”  
Teeth clenched, Seto violently yanks the program by the collar of its shirt, hoists it up to its toes. Their eyes meet. Those burning violet eyes. The gentle shape of its cheeks. The soft curve of its lower lip. There’s silence. For a fleeting moment the program sees a flare of emotion in Seto’s face, and is then flung to the floor. When it looks back up at Seto, there’s only what seems to be disgust left inside his dark eyes.

.

In truth, as Seto worked to improve the coding of the artificial intelligence, he found very little to rewrite. He deleted a thread of code, put it back, and then blanked the program’s memory.  
When the program lost their second duel, it was easy for Seto to shut it down. After all, it was only a string of ones and zeros.

.

The bed is warm, melting and pale as twilight. The fabric hung from the bed posts is tissue-thin and moonlit, and the soft shadows move like water. Seto stares at man beside him, inches from his touch. He feels the urge to lunge upon that beautiful body, as his eyes trace the details of skin and muscle. The man is not a replica and he’s not a specter nor a figment. And it’s such an alien feeling to Seto, for his heart to swell like this, overflowing with something warm and sweet.  
“How do you know about the hologram?” Seto asks.  
“How did you know Partner had a piece of the Millennium Puzzle?”  
Seto lies on his stomach, arms loosely tied around his pillow, but Atem’s pulled himself up till his shoulders rest against the headboard. He rolls his head and tugs up his knees. Seto wants to touch him.  
“You shouldn’t abandon him like that,” Atem says.  
“Abandon?”  
“Do you understand… trying to create a soul like that—“  
“Soul? What are you talking about? It’s a program in a computer.”  
Atem pauses.  
“When you summon the Blue Eyes White Dragon, is there not some part of you that feels there’s something more there?”  
Seto chuffs. “Are you really going to be a bleeding heart for the holograms? It adds a rather dark tint to our battles now, doesn’t it?”  
“You’re right. It’s something different. But… you shouldn’t have created something so alive with such little thought. You gave him a personality and memories.”  
“I gave it your personality and your memories.”  
The silence is hollow. As gentle as moth wings, Seto reaches out to grip Atem’s forearm, and Atem looks to the place where their spirits touch.  
The need for words is gone.

.  
.  
.

It had been a dreamless sleep inside a black abyss, like the dark water of a womb. A few years had passed, but the program couldn’t have known this as it opened its eyes, seeing the world of life as if for the first time. Who it saw was a tall man in a flaring trench coat, casting bowls of white fire inside the brilliance of light.  
“Kaiba…?”  
“Hmph,” the man smirked.  
Something fluttered somewhere. Was it inside the DNA of his code?  
They dueled, and then they dueled again. Somehow it was different this time. It blazed.  
It was the passion of connection, between their pride, between their souls, between two programs formed from a kaleidoscope of precious memories.


End file.
